Find Me Where I Used to Live

Should I depart early,

Will you sing and laugh for me?

Will you give what I no longer can?

And once my insides have been disbursed

And the last of the practice stitches

Of learning hands left their jagged marks,

Let my scrambled flesh face the furnace freely.

Don't you waste a fleeting thought on it,

For I have never really been there.

And if you can't feel me curl against you,

Trust your heart and look for me

Where I truly used to live:

In the taste of a freshly uncapped pen,

Pressed tight against your lips, lost in thoughts,

Its ball tip still untouched by liquid ink;

In the subtle sound of smoking cappuccino,

Resting bubbles popping the milky foam away,

One by one, waiting for it to grow colder;

In the smell of old library books,

Musty with the author's wisdom,

Where I swore you could feel its musk;

In the forceful hug of a clingy blanket,

Wrapping every inch of your skin on a cold night,

Een knuffelburrito just for you;

And the hidden auburn shadow,

Falling on our most treasured little face,

His hair, my hair, against the sun.

Should I depart early,

Will you know how much I loved you?

Will you feel me still with you?